


I wish...

by ebonyfeather



Series: Two of a kind [8]
Category: Psych, The Mentalist
Genre: Crack, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-29
Updated: 2012-02-29
Packaged: 2017-10-31 22:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebonyfeather/pseuds/ebonyfeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn finds his wishes coming true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I wish...

**Author's Note:**

> Not strictly part of the 'Two of a Kind' series - this runs alongside it.

 

 

Shawn Spencer looked around in surprise. One minute he’d been standing in the rain at a crime scene in downtown L.A and the next he was… Wait a minute, where exactly was he? He scanned his surroundings, taking in the picture-postcard white sandy beach and turquoise sea. Overhead, the sun shone down from a clear blue sky and a faint breeze caused a soft rustling sound from the line of palm trees that he could see at the edge of the beach.

 

Thinking back to what he’d been doing back in L.A, he looked down at his clothes. Weird; they were dry. A moment ago, he’d looked as though someone had just thrown a bucket of water over him. He glanced down at his hand. In his hand was the little silver and glass bottle he had picked up from the grass near where the body had been found. It had been all but hidden, and he had only noticed it when he’d almost slipped after stepping on it. Whilst the others had been standing with the coroner, he had spotted something in the mud and gone off to investigate. He had picked it up and wiped the mud off it.

 

Wait, that was it. He distinctly wishing he was somewhere sunny- he had been reading a magazine before he’d left the office, and there had been a picture of a pretty, deserted, desert island beach. Come to think of it, the picture had looked exactly like this.

 

Shawn frowned at the bottle in his hand. It looked familiar, reminding him of something, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it…

 

Never one to waste an opportunity, Shawn set off in the general direction of the trees, eager to have a good look around. He could freak out about how he got here later; right now, he was curious. It was just a shame that he was on his own. This would be much more fun with someone else, or rather, one particular someone, he thought.

 

“I wish Patrick were here,” he murmured to himself.

 

\---------

 

In a dull street, watching as the coroner loaded the body into the back of the van, Patrick Jane pulled his jacket collar up around his neck. It was a useless gesture, since he was already soaked through. He saw Agent Lisbon huddled under the eaves of a building along with Cho, Van Pelt under the umbrella that Rigsby had found for her, with him at her side. In fact, he saw everyone but-

 

“Hey, where’d Shawn go?”

 

Lisbon grimaced. “Don’t tell me you lost him,” she said to Cho.

 

“How is it my fault if he wandered off again?” Cho asked.

 

“Because he was with you last.”

 

Patrick sighed. Shawn wasn’t a child that they needed to babysit, he thought. Sure, he had the attention span of a five year old but Shawn was perfectly capable of looking after himself. He’d come back when he was good and ready. Unless of course he’d managed to get himself into trouble again, which he seemed to be able to do without even trying. His methods might be a little on the odd side, as were Patrick’s, but he was good at what he did. That was why Lisbon had hired him, and why the Santa Barbara PD had employed his services before that. He just tended to be a magnet for trouble.

 

“I think he was over there,” Cho said, pointing to the opposite side of the crime scene. He reluctantly left the shelter of the building and followed Patrick across to the grassy area.

 

“He can’t have gone far-” Cho looked around and frowned. “Jane? Jane, where the hell are you? This isn’t funny, you know.”

 

Five minutes later, he had to admit defeat. He just didn’t know how he was going to tell Lisbon that he’d now lost Patrick as well as Shawn.

 

\---------

 

“Patrick!”

 

Patrick looked toward the sound of the voice, still alarmed at his surroundings. “Shawn, what’s happening? Where are we?”

 

Shawn rushed over and caught Patrick in a hug, bringing him close enough to press a kiss to his lips.

 

“Haven’t a clue. Page 63 of my magazine.”

 

Patrick shook his head. “What?”

 

“Never mind. And don’t ask how you got here, either. It’ll just make you crazy.”

 

“Shawn, what are you talking about?” Patrick asked. “And I do want to know how I got here. I was at a crime scene, looking for you, I might add.” He looked down at his clothing. “I’m dry. How?”

 

Shawn sighed and took the bottle out of his pocket, showing it to Patrick. “It’s magic,” he said.

 

Patrick just stared at him.

 

“It is, honestly!”

 

Taking the little bottle out of his boyfriend’s hand, Patrick examined it closely; it looked like a miniature version of the genie bottle in that old TV show, ‘I dream of Genie’. As soon as he said it, Shawn beamed.

 

“I knew it looked familiar!” Taking the stopper out, he peered into the end. “I wonder if there’s a genie in here?”

 

“Shawn, focus, please? Now, start again. What makes you believe it’s magic?”

 

Shawn rolled his eyes at Patrick. “Because I wished that you were here and then you were. And before that, when I picked it up, I wished I was somewhere sunny, like the picture I’d seen in my magazine this morning, and then suddenly I was here. I was holding that each time and my wishes came true.” He took the bottle from Patrick and stuffed it into his pocket. “Now can you please stop over-analysing this? Here we are on this beautiful tropical island, with no rain, no crime scene, no one around…”

 

His words trailed off as he leered at Patrick, seconds before beginning to strip off his shirt and jeans.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I’m going for a swim,” Shawn replied. “Are you going to join me, or are you just going to stand there, being boring?”

 

Patrick watched as Shawn dropped his underwear on top of the pile of clothes and trotted happily toward the clear azure sea. They really should be finding a way back, he knew, but the longer he was here, the less important that seemed to be. And he really did feel completely overdressed, standing on a beach in the hot sun whilst wearing a suit.

 

 _When in Rome,_ he thought, dropping his clothes beside Shawn’s and going to join him.

 

A few hours later, Shawn lay back contentedly in the sand next to Patrick. They had just dined on a meal of freshly picked fruit from the trees that ran along the back of the beach. Shawn had the pocket knife he usually carried and so they had been able to cut the fruit, although the coconuts they had found had even Shawn admitting defeat after ten minutes of swearing and almost cutting his finger off.

 

“You have a bit of juice on you,” he said, leaning over to lick the sweet liquid from Patrick’s chin.

 

Patrick slid an arm around him and pulled him closer, rolling them over so that he was pinned in the sand under Patrick’s weight. Shawn wriggled beneath him, extremely glad that they hadn’t yet bothered to get dressed after their swim. He clenched his fingers in Patrick’s hair and brought him down for a kiss, his other hand slowly making its way down Patrick’s back to give his ass a squeeze.

 

“Shawn, you can stop thinking that right now.”

 

Shawn pouted. “Aw, come on, haven’t you ever wanted to do it on a tropical beach?”

 

“Think about it,” Patrick told him. “There are some places I really don’t want sand to get.”

 

OK, Shawn had to agree with that. What they really needed was…

 

Suddenly, Patrick looked down to see that Shawn was lying on a large, blue blanket. He met the other man’s startled eyes.

 

“I didn’t even say that out loud.”

 

Shawn reached over and took the bottle from his jeans’ pocket. It looked different now, not quite as shiny, as he turned it over in his hand.

 

“I think that was it- I used three wishes. Everyone always gets three wishes in the stories.” He handed it to Patrick and saw the bottle gleam just that little bit brighter when Patrick held it. “It’s your turn now.”

 

Patrick set the bottle down beside them and turned his attention back to Shawn.

 

“Aren’t you going to wish for anything?”

 

“No, I don’t need to,” Patrick told him, smiling. “I doubt I need to wish for what I want right now.”

 

Shawn wasted no time in proving him right. He closed his lips over Patrick’s, taking him in a slow passionate kiss as he rolled them over once more, settling himself between Patrick’s legs.

 

When they were both sated and Shawn asleep, lying curled against Patrick’s body, chin resting in the crook of his neck, Patrick picked up the bottle again. Just one tiny wish wouldn’t hurt, he reasoned. It would be for purely scientific purposes, just to see if it really could grant them. His thumb idly rubbed the smooth sides of the glass, over the ridges of the silver inlay, as he conjured up an image in his mind.

 

“I wish…”

 

Shawn awoke a short time later and felt around, realising that Patrick was gone. He sat up and looked around, frowning when he saw the thatched roof of a hut just this side of the tree-line. That hadn’t been there when he fell asleep, had it? Patrick appeared in the doorway and beckoned him over, looking extremely pleased with himself.

           

“What do you think?”

 

Shawn smiled as he saw that rather than the traditional contents of a beach hut, this one was almost half full with a huge bed.

 

“As much fun as the beach is,” Patrick said, “I thought this might be comfier.” 

 

“You have been busy, haven’t you?”

 

Patrick snagged Shawn’s hand and pulled him down onto the padded mattress. He claimed Shawn’s mouth in a kiss that left him breathless and wondering just how Patrick could be so full of energy so soon after playtime on the beach only a short time ago. Then again, he too felt invigorated; maybe it was this place having this effect on them both. Whatever the reason, he found he soon didn’t care.

 

Licking and kissing a trail down the length of Shawn’s body, Patrick closed his mouth over the head of Shawn’s cock. Any other thoughts that had been flitting through Shawn’s mind vanished then, his entire being focussed on what Patrick was doing. When Patrick stopped, he protested, until he Patrick moved back up his body and leaned over the side of the bed.

 

“I also thought that this might come in handy,” he said, holding up a bottle of lube.

 

Sometimes, Patrick had a one-track mind, he thought- the bed, the lube- and this was definitely one of those times. He watched as Patrick squeezed some of the lube onto his fingers and then reached down to trail one slick finger across Shawn’s skin.

 

“Please,” he murmured.

 

Patrick leaned down to kiss the end of his nose. “Patience, love.”

 

The low growl from Shawn and the rough kiss he pressed to Patrick’s lips told him that Shawn had no intention of being patient. Patrick quickly got Shawn ready and sighed happily as he eased into him.

 

\---------

 

“It’s time.”

 

They were sitting on the sand, looking out over the clear blue sea and enjoying the sunshine for the last time. Patrick leaned back into Shawn’s arms.

  

Shawn pouted. “I don’t want to.”

 

“We have to go back,” Patrick told him. “The others are going to be wondering what happened to us. We’ve been here a day at least.”

 

“Fine,” Shawn relented. “How?”

 

Patrick held up the bottle. “I’ve got one wish left. Ready?”

 

Shawn nodded and Patrick rubbed his thumb over the bottle. “I wish we were back in L.A.”

 

\---------

 

“Patrick?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I think you should have been a bit more specific about where we wanted to be,” Shawn said, looking around. They were standing in the same grassy area they had been when Shawn had found the bottle; the wish had returned them to the exact spot they had vanished from. Unfortunately, they were now standing in the middle of downtown L.A with no shoes on and no way to get back.

 

“And maybe remembered that my wallet and everything else was in my jacket pocket,” Patrick added.

 

\---------

 

Agent Lisbon looked up as Patrick Jane and Shawn Spencer were escorted into the CBI offices by a uniformed cop. They were a mess- no shoes, Patrick’s jacket and waistcoat gone and his shirt untucked. The cop approached her.

 

“Agent Lisbon? These two say that they work with the CBI but neither of them have any ID at all.”

 

For a moment, Lisbon was tempted to say that she had no idea who they were, payback for their disappearing act. She and the rest of her agents had spent the past twenty-four hours worrying about them, not knowing what had happened to them, and then the pair of them just reappear? Not a phone call, nothing. She sighed.

 

“Yes, officer, they belong to me. Thank you.”

 

As soon as he left, she turned on the two of them, the other agents all hurrying over to hear.

 

“ _Where the hell have you two been?_ Do you have any idea of how concerned we were? Would it have killed you to pick up a damn phone and call?” she raged. “You better have a _damn_ good explanation.”

 

Shawn glanced at Patrick and he could see Patrick thinking the same as he was. How on earth were they supposed to explain the past day?

 

“Well, it started with this magic bottle…”

 

When they had finished, Lisbon sighed. They’d lost the plot, both of them. Magic? Wishes? Desert islands? Then, as she opened her mouth to yell at them again, she noticed the sandy footprint on the carpet where Shawn had been standing… 

 

 


End file.
